Title: Falling In Author: Maiyeko Singi Description: An inmate gets a new cellie Contact: m.singi@yahoo.com Category: Gay/Prison
I'd fallen into house around 11 just after a late breakfast and helping out on the ward. My hours on the medical shift had decreased a lot after a situation with the doctor, and the riots due to heightened security. Units 14, 15, and 17 having been segregated, no longer had rec time together so that made for fewer fights. For a while, it seemed like I was doing nothing other than prepping injuries. The time I spent with the prisoners on watch had been cut in half.
Author was prisoner number 145896D. When I started, he'd been on watch for seven months but his condition hadn't changed. Most in the program lasted only eight weeks before it became obvious that the true reason for them being there was to die. Author had been arrested on a string of petty crimes like theft and breaking and entering, but like so many of us without the right attorney, he'd ended up on the farm. He was young, more cute than handsome, and more soft than rugged - a boy like him never had a chance in this place. It wasn't long before the taunts started, his first day in fact. By the third night an older gentleman in his 50's approached him on the yard and told him to transfer into his house. "You just be sweet to me" he'd said "and no one will bother you." Jackson was an old lifer and knew the game. No one would mess with him because of his age and two because he had connections for getting in the best shit from the outside. Fuck with Jackson and he'd fuck with your supply. Through that, he'd established himself as a man.
For whatever reason, Jackson had propositioned Author to crash in his place. There was something that he'd found attractive and wanted to protect. Jackson had never taken a wife so it was something of a surprise that he'd considered it. Maybe like me he'd just started feeling lonely. With the question being out, inmates backed off and Author had gained a false sense of security. I'd seen him before he'd come to the ward but he wasn't someone I'd take a second look at. After a month, when no move was made to settle in with Jackson, Renaldo Padella made a different proposition and Author became a sperm bank for most of the men on unit 17.
It's hard to not feel sorry. The guy came into the system young and played tough, but was too cute for his own good. What he failed to realize was that it didn't matter how tough he was, he needed someone on his side, and guys like him rarely got to choose who'd have their backs. A typical story in this place, so it is of no consequence.
Around 2, some of the brothers from unit 14 braved the cold for rec and took to the courts. Their game of B-ball tended to get pretty intense and I wanted in figuring it was a good way to clear my head. I was being guarded by Jimmy the Jam who had the meanest cock on the block. "Better watch your ass College, I'd hate to make you my bitch!" Jam always liked to get in real close to intimidate other players with what he was packing. That bulge was always a prominent spectacle in our scrub like uniforms, especially since we only wore boxers or nothing at all underneath. Briefs for whatever reason, were not allowed.
I faked Jam with a turn to the right, broke out left and twisted around to drop a 3 pointer. Swoosh. Pading, pading, the ball bounced under the net having caught nothing but air. I got in a few more shots like that despite the distraction of Jams cock constantly riding my ass. Admittedly I had a thing about his cock rubbing against me on the sly, a few times I'd called out because I'd almost gotten hard. He was testing me because I'd let him cross a boundary in the past. Jam was mean and calculating, the kind of men I'd been around for so long at that point a part of me had accepted it as the way men were supposed to be. Jimmy was the total opposite of Author, one was someone a mother could love, the other someone you just fucked, though getting fucked in here, is really not much of an option at all if anyone ever finds out.
Jam played the macho shit pretty hard and got far too aggressive for a yard game with nothing on the table - lucky for me because I was pretty low on smokes and my team lost. After that, some of the players hit the showers and I went back to fall in at my place to make sure the new cellie hadn't arrived early and decided to go through my shit. Just to be certain, I straightened things up and rolled most of my reads back to my side of the room. I also had a box of snacks, with a couple of emergency smokes, and a small jar of hair oil tucked away at the bottom just in case I was ever included in a lockdown and couldn't get commissary. That box was worth fighting for.
A convict often carried his life in a cigar box. Pictures, smokes, dope, and hair product which doubled as lube. Mine hadn't been used except for solo sessions which I'd had time to enjoy since my last cellie had been transferred to Beaumont. I was happy that he'd left. They always seemed to pair me with obnoxious Bush loving country boys that talked constantly about pussy. The last guy would never shut up about the snatch, the more I tried to block him out, the more he wanted to get in my face about it. He'd even gone so far as to pull out his cock and call me a faggot one night. "You must like dick or something. You gonna be my Black Bitch!"
He spent a few days on the ward after that.
When the guards had asked what happened to him I told them he must have fell. There was no contradiction to my version of the event, so they took him away laughing knowing full well what had happened. Lucky for me, I was in good with enough of them and could get away with shit. A lot of recruits were students and knew I'd done `College' as they called me. After that incident, part of me wished I'd have just kicked his ass earlier and more often just to get some privacy and to shut him up. He'd put up a little fight, which made my dick hard so I could see there was no way he could be the man of any house. For the most part at least, he never pushed me over the edge again and respected a certain boundary of disrespect. Still, the problem was that I despised the prison culture of gender.
It must have been about three months after that I noticed all his talk about pussy had subsided. At first I didn't make anything of it, figuring that he'd either willingly gotten dicked, or was dicking someone. Since he was in my place, I thought none of the brothers would mess with him, even Renaldo Padella as notorious as he was for taking some White ass wasn't going to fuck with someone staying in another man's house. I hadn't considered just how much of a prick Jimmy the Jam was.
I forget exactly when it happened, but I'd came back to find Jam fucking the literal shit out of country boy. He must have been used to the size of Jam's cock by then because he wasn't yelling out, or trying to get away. Just taking it. I was pissed not because Jam was ramming him, but because it was against the code, against the status I'd built, and stunk up the fucking cage. You don't fuck a "Man's" cellie unless he lets you. Like an idiot I gritted my teeth and just stood there while Jam's ebony blade dug into country boy, hitting hard the spots that most men could never reach. Defeated I backed out to let him finish the disrespect he'd passed onto my house, ashamed because I'd thought of fucking country boy myself, afraid that I'd always thought myself straight and didn't buy into that if I'm the man on top shit. I shouldn't have let Jimmy cross that boundary because after that was when he started testing and fucking with me on the courts.
One day I was really tired after having pulled a long shift on the ward -- this was sometime later. The doctor let me take a long shower in the guards' locker, the stipulation being that he of course had to watch over me. The trade off was acceptable. I made a show of undressing slowly, stretching, and bending over so that he could get a good look. I'd stand up slowly and then hoped my cock would get slightly erect. It was difficult at first but I got used to it and could think about what put me in the slammer in the first place to get juiced. I hadn't fucked a guy except twice when I was younger, but the longer I remained in prison, the less opposed to the idea I'd become. I thought about Mathew Farinelli under the warmth of the falling water. We'd gotten into an argument about something and he pushed me calling me a pussy. I became furious and knocked him to the ground.
"Fuck you" I glared.
"Yeah, you wish you could fuck me. You've never even had a girl have you?" The question came like a dare and I froze in fear realizing that I had an erection, and that yes I wanted to. There was no sex with a girl at that point, even though I said I had hundreds of times. So, I fucked him with spit right there in the alley rough and hard to prove that I wasn't the fag. We were friends one minute, then fighting and fucking the next. Out of shame Mathew never talked about it, and eventually came back around. It happened again like that, that `I taught him a lesson' about who the fag was. The second time after I'd finished putting a load inside him, I felt sick. It dawned on me that the reason we had our second fight was because he was mad at me for taking what he would have given had I asked. I got scared and never hung out with him again. Soon after that I creamed the first girl who told me no, and got her pregnant. A fat bitch named Pam DeSoto that moved away. I never even saw the kid.
My attention turned from memories of the outside back to the doctor. I tried to see if there was something in him that I liked, something like Pam or something like Mathew. I figured he wanted to fuck me or be fucked, I wasn't sure which nor how to go about it. I was certain he knew I was taking supplies and would allow it as long as he could watch. He kind of smiled when my eyes met his and I sort of guessed that he eventually wanted to ride my Black cock. He just seemed like the type who'd do anything for a big dick - even throw away a career. For me the question remained, if I wanted to spend an entire 20 years without any form of human contact. The stupid part to that was that I'd never known true intimacy. Mathew was the closest I'd felt to it. Guys could get everything behind bars it seemed except condoms, proper lube, and intimacy.
After I finished up, the water had opened my pores which felt good. I dried off intentionally slow, and moved close to the doc and indicated that he could touch my dick if he wanted. He looked toward the door afraid that the guard outside might decide to come in, but we both knew he wouldn't. In fact he was well aware that the doc wanted to take privilege with me. It wasn't like that was my first shower in the locker with him keeping watch.
The doc got down on his knees and took my dick in one hand, lifted it up and stared at the bottom of my shaft, turned it to the right, left, then back to the right. He took the other hand, sandwiched the top of my cock and angled it down to the floor allowing his hand to drag the full length of me, only when he got to the head, he held it and continued the inspection. He pursed his lips and sucked in air through his teeth "yeah, that's a beauty" he said. "You've got the cock of a stallion. Look at those thick veins" he paused looking up at me.
His eyes were a deep green, he had dark hair, and I noticed for the first time, a hairy chest that was a bit too manly for me and in total contrast to the soft cooing he made about my groin. He smiled and turned his attention to my balls which still needed drying. They hung heavy but were full like balloons, which the doc seemed to like and tasted the moisture with his tongue. It felt good to have my cock on his face, and to see him servicing my nuts. My dick twitched and acted as though it would stretch out into its full glory, but I was too nervous, and the situation felt trite. After a minute or so he took my shaft into his mouth and sucked me for another three before he stopped and gave up since I didn't get fully erect.
"We'd better go," he said. "I don't want to end up looking for another job." He offered to try to get me transferred for work at a special hospital for inmates, but I wasn't interested.
"Next time" I told him "I'll just take a shorter shower so we can have more time." But next time never came. After that the doctor pretended that nothing had happened between us, so it was a while before I'd gotten another private shower and when I did, he wasn't interested in playing. He basically blew me off when I walked over to him after having made very short work of cleaning myself. I'd noticed his dick was hard but was confused as to what was going on. "I really want you to suck this man" but he just sort of grinned, played coy and gestured to my rags as though I hadn't just offered him my ass on a platter. My prick turned to stone, and inside I was daring him to push me further.
Defeated, I left to return to quarters a little pissed but realized he hadn't given me my work schedule for the following week so I doubled back before checking with the next station. When I approached the lockers the guard that was posted had disappeared. I figured maybe he had left since no prisoners were ever back there except me and two others who cleaned. I pressed my way and opened the door closing it very slowly so that it would not make a sound thinking that I'd heard a voice. My heart was pounding against my chest when I recognized the familiar "you've got the cock of a stallion. Yeah, that's a beauty, just slide it in real slow."
Walking as soft as I could I peeked around the corner and saw the doc, pants around his ankles, and the guard behind him bent slightly at the knees to lower himself to get into the doc's ass. When the head popped in I could almost feel it myself. The guys cock was much thicker and a little longer than mine, so doc winced and was instantly fucked hard up onto his tiptoes.
The sound was a rhythmic clap, clap, clap that was sending shock waves through the doctor's hips. I could only imagine how it was tearing him up inside from the look on his face. The guard grimaced and slumped onto the doctor's back with one hand on his shoulder and another holding him hard by the waste to keep him from running. And, it did look like the doctor wanted to run off that cock to save his ass but it had already been tenderized, claimed and renamed "sloppy fuck hole."
"Yeah" the guard groveled. "Take that cum up your sloppy fuck hole."
I could see the great Dr. Swan sweating and gasping for air. "Please" he stuttered. "Take it out! P, ple please it fucking hurts." But the guard meant to finish what he had started and did so in loud grunts. Swan collapsed on the floor in front of him, turned around to reach for the guard's leg, but was pushed away and down to the floor.
"Get your hands off me faggot! You ain't nothing but a bitch!" The doc curled into a fetal position and the guard made his exit out the other end of the room which was usually locked. Part of me felt that he'd gotten what he deserved for picking the guard over me (the convict), another part was hard as steel. As far as I knew they could have known each other on the outside and I'd just witnessed their kink.
"Whatever" I thought, and went back to my cage.
Thinking back to that actually got me a little aroused. I was slowly fingering my cock and wanted some privacy so I put up the sheet. I figured I could jack off before the new cellie hit the floor, or read since they tended to be brought up around 5.
The estimate was wrong. He actually showed up earlier. I found myself drifting in and out of dream images that went through my head. I'd even had a fantasy about fucking the doctor hard and rough, only he started off as a woman named Vanessa, but then her vagina turned into an ass hole that locked my penis in place. The only way I could get free was to come. When she turned around I saw it was Swan, hairy chest like a mangy dog -- from dream to a nightmare.
The sound of someone sitting on the other bed is what woke me. The new guy arrived and had already started things off on the wrong foot by ignoring and disrespecting the sheet. "You don't ignore a man's sheet" I started saying without looking to see who was there.
"Sorry." The voice was unexpectedly soft and tiny, the apology was a shock, and the fact that I had an obvious erection somewhat embarrassing. If he was fish he would get used to the sight of hard dicks soon enough was the notion. His best hope was to stay in my place so at least none of them would be coming at him other than Jimmy the Jam, and at that point I would have let him have him for a pack.
"You College, right" he spoke. "I heard about you. Thirty for violent sex assault, and armed robbery."
"Great" I remember mumbling, thinking the guy sounded like a fag retard. I turned to face him. His soft features came into focus slowly, his dark hair, almond eyes, and golden skin. It dawned on me that the accent was actually Asian and not hair-lip queer.
Over the next few weeks, he wasn't a nuisance like past cellies. He preferred to read at the same time I did, and even turned me on to a book called "Gods in Alabama" about a White chick dating a Brotha. We talked softly at night, sometimes about cars, women, and even engineering. It had been a while since I'd spoke in future tense which was nice. We laughed, showered, arranged our work schedules to maximize our time and started taking meals together as well. It wasn't long before the word on the block was that I'd taken a wife.
Chet was smart and clever, and perhaps knew more about me in a short period of time than my own family. But then what did we have but time to share in each other's story? He didn't ask if I did it, but what happened. "A bitch hit me and I fucked her" I replied. "It was just that simple." At that moment I didn't particularly feel like sitting on some analytical sofa while he drew a connection between sex and violence. I was trying to move beyond the person I had been.
"You still fighting that alley." Chet murmured. I laughed at that, but heard the sound as though a teleprompter had just displayed queue the track. He let it slide knowing that I didn't want to get into it, and I left after an uncomfortable silence.
Jam was all in my face about Chet on the court asking if the Asian boy liked being my bitch and taking Black cock. He jammed his dick against my ass when he said that so I pummeled him. He struck back. The friendly game suddenly became rough so Jam wanted to put something on the table. I claimed I didn't have anything for the challenge, but he told me I did and he wanted it. Just like that, in one stupid move, Chet's ass was on the line and he didn't even know it. Jam had called it, if I said it wasn't mine then that meant my friend was up for grabs. Since I wasn't working as much as I used to for the doctor, I couldn't get the supplies that I needed to settle that sort of thing, it didn't help that the doc was more interested in getting used in the lockers.
Jackson liked Chet and probably would protect him if he fell into his place, but that would mean I'd have to play pimp or swap with Jackson's ugly ass cellie who was a prick. A nice one but a prick just the same. The only option I had was to beat Jam on the court, or beat him man to man.
The game was close, swoosh. I kept trailing a few points behind. He'd inch ahead but I was good at the 3 pointers, it was the tight shots that I had a problem with. Pading, pading, the guys were hustling on both sides as if THEY had some ass at stake. Swoosh, I tried to rush for another 3 but Jam drew an intentional foul. After that he was all in my face and begging for a fight. "Yeah, I'm gonna pop that pussy."
He made the free throw so his boys only needed one more to win it.
When I got back into place, Chet had gotten a visitor's basket from commissary and offered me fruit. I managed a thank you but told him to enjoy his givings. "You sure? I got sweets too. I want the chocolate but you have some."
I smiled and told him no again thinking how polite he was for someone that had killed two people. He asked me how the game had gone, and I explained that my boys lost. He laughed saying, "you need to work you 2 points" and sat next to me on my bed. "What wrong" he asked throwing an arm over my shoulder. He felt sweet and tender. I was aroused mentally if not physically. Unlike any man I'd ever known, Chet was different in my mind, but I didn't want a man, an equal without gender would have been perfect. He had put the sheet up for privacy so no one would be asking for anything from the basket. He took one delicate hand and put it on my cheek opposite him to turn my face so that I was looking into his eyes.
Automatically I let mine drift shut and fell in with him and allowed our lips to meet. I knew that that was what he had wanted, what I had wanted for a while but it didn't feel right. It was too clean. Guys just didn't kiss in the world of men as it had been sculpted behind prison walls, but I let it happen and it felt both good and bad. I turned my body to face him moving fast, trying to have what we both wanted. I knew he was clean because I'd seen the records on the ward, no diseases, no condoms, no need. I reached and fumbled for my little emergency box with the hair grease that made perfect lube.
Chet was flexible and came out of his prison rags as if they had Velcro. The way he kissed me, the smoothness of his body, I felt uncomfortable in the knowledge that a man could be so much like a woman. The lines of gender became blurred when he climbed on top of me rubbing our cocks together. There were times when I reached between us and I couldn't tell if I was holding my half-erect cock or his rock hard staff. He was very well hung when fully upped. "You've got a nice one," I said.
The grin on his face grew, "you keep talking and I just might let you fuck me too" he added. My eyes grew wide when he slid his body down and managed to position his cock between my thighs and near the crack of my ass. He then moved back up to kiss my mouth and I felt the head of his meat inch closer to my hole to which my body responded on its own and seemed to open up for him. I drew a panicked breath as he reached over for the grease and I felt it spread over my asshole.
"You're not going to fuck me" I protested, but I was so horny and unsure of if I wanted him or not. I had never been fucked by a guy and if word got out that I'd been the catcher, especially for Chet, well things would have become too difficult. Without thinking I rolled him over under me and pinned his arms over his head.
"You going to take it from me like Farinelli" he purred suddenly passive. I'd told him the story one night while we listened to a couple of the neighbors going at it. "You better fuck me hard, or you will be my bitch" he laughed back to aggression. The heat from his groin, his body, his breath, the confusion of gender did something too me -- it made me warm. My dick had gotten rock hard. Maybe it was that illusive intimacy I thought so lost to me in the real world. It took a moment for the big head to catch up to the little head. I was back in that alley with Farinelli again. I smeared grease all over my cock and busted Chet open, at the same time in my mind I was fucking Farinelli, only slow and without anger.
At first it felt a little gritty but once he opened up for me the ride was good. Chet threw his head back and let me pound him hard, in fact with each grimace I put on his face he seemed to get closer to coming. I could feel the slickness of his precum on our stomachs. He secreted a lot of it. The scent was strong like chlorine, the heat between us more than I had expected. My dick was inside another man and I felt the power of it. I could change the world by shoving my cock up Chet's ass. Dick became the force that could puncture any man's soul and wrestle from him the seed that was locked away. I road harder and smiled as he gritted his teeth from the deed slapping my ass - gettyup.
The build up of semen came fast and thick, my first ejaculation almost felt like I was taking a slow piss instead of coming because it just seeped out. No, it was sucked out by Chet's ass, still I kept stroking not feeling an end to the erection. It had been so long since I'd actually fucked in the outside world, I realized that my new found substitute was worth it, at least Chet was worth it. I kissed him, hard, with the smell of an alley in my head. His ass tightened like rage and released around my cock, tightened again and released the pleasure. His chest heaved up and down and I could feel the little trimmer of an orgasm flowing between us where our stomachs met. Tightening releasing, tightening again with each thrust of his seed into the world and in between us.
The pressure on my nuts built up and stopped hard, my dick felt full of capped off. It was only a matter of a few strokes before I would burst. I jabbed my cock into him at a slight angle because somehow that was what felt best. It was as if he had some extra sensation tucked away specifically for the head of my plank if I just hit it a bit to the left. One final time he clamped his ass intentionally like a vice, I could tell he wanted me to finish because the enraged pleasure had turned into a look of disdain, but he was determined to make me come, and I did, and I did, and I came, like I never had before. I shot so hard it hurt. Part of me imagined that when I removed the head of my cock it would be splintered. That load flew into him, and he took it, he kissed me, tender, then hard, but there was no violence, just like I'd wanted with Farinelli. Maybe somewhere he was happy too.
Gradually, the movements slowed. The dick drained and grew soft inside his stretched cum tank. When I removed it, some of my seed dripped out, and I just looked at it in disbelief. To have noticed the detail of that, was another milestone. His body was almost vacant of hair, his asshole had a little dusting of dark fuzz but that was about it. Part of me thought that I could probably count the hairs on him. His balls and cock were dark and I found that kind of hot. His dick lay limp and had drooped between his legs. I took it back in my hand and wanted to kiss it, thinking that I could love him. My cock burned with irritation from the grease maybe, or the rough fucking but it didn't matter. Eventually I knew that I would let him fuck me.
"Thanks" was all I could say.
We drifted off to sleep, not realizing that the guards had changed shifts. There was a knock on the bars. "Put your bibles away boys, church is over" came the voice "take down the sheet or I will." Chet moved quickly to his own bed and I pulled up my prison rags before removing the sheet. The guard just looked at me then glanced over at Chet.
He reached through to take my hand "what's up College?"
"Aww you know. Ain't nothing to it, Nathan."
"Say" he went on "I heard Jimmy Jam fell down on the court today."
"Yeah. He fell pretty hard. Doc patched him up on the ward so he should be good once the stitches come out."
He snickered. "So that's the new inmate huh?" he said lifting his chin to Chet. "He OK?"
"Yes. Yes Sir. He is quite good" I stretched, returned to bed, and fell in to share a coveted smoke with the new wife.